A Major Surprise
by trek-grrrl
Summary: C, M's developing relationship, and happenings prior to the Korean Armistice of 27 JUL 1953, with a surprise thrown in. Sequel to 'Sonnets in the Dark,' Prequel to 'Goodbye, Farewell and Amen.' COMPLETE. Please R&R.
1. Prelude to the Armistice

"A Major Surprise" 

Chapter One. Prelude to the Armistice.

The Morning After.

Margaret stirred next to Charles, stretching her achey muscles, breathing in the freshly rain-drenched air. She was sore all over, but it was the pleasurable type of sore, from making love to the man she loved so dearly. This was the man with whom she'd worked for months and got to know as a friend and colleague. The man who'd surprised her (yet again) with such passion and ardor the night before, that she now felt like she'd run a ten-mile marathon with calisthenics to boot.

She turned to face him. He had such a peaceful look that she smiled at him, as he snored softly by her side. She gently touched his cheek, and he stirred, sighing.

He opened his eyes and returned her smile.

"That is the loveliest sight I have ever awoken to," he said sweetly, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek.

He pulled her into his arms, and she nestled against his chest, content to lie that way all morning if the war would let her. He had not been released from his medical leave as yet, so if they got wounded she would have to dress and fly out of there, he would not. All was blessedly quiet this morning.

Margaret ran her hand over his chest, reveling in the feel of him as he held her so close. It didn't take long to wake him up, as she pulled herself up, over his encircling arm, to kiss and nibble her favorite tender spot by his ear. Her hand wandered, further and further down, and he soon responded to her promptings.

He turned over, so she was under him, and he began his own explorations with that glorious mouth she loved so much. She didn't know which was better: his sweet lips or his nimble fingers. He was using both on her, simultaneously delivering gentle kisses, and fondling her as his own hands explored the length and depth of her.

"Margaret, my love," he muttered against her breast, tongue and lips teasing her tenderly. All she could do was gasp in response, her head flung back, eyes closed, as she lost herself once again in the wonder and ecstasy.

"Charles...Oh, Charles, I want you," she pleaded. She felt his chuckle against her neck as he continued with his mouth, nipping and biting her, his fingers working her delicate spot below. He proceeded as if she'd not spoken, lost in his own world of Margaret Houlihan, glorying in the feel of her under his sensitive hands and seeking mouth.

His fingers continued teasing her as he slowly moved his lips from her throat to the nape of her neck, down to her lovely breast, his tongue and lips describing ever decreasing circles until he'd reached the center, where he nipped and lapped and kissed her sensitive flesh. She was gasping in little mewling sounds, almost hyperventilating, her hands clutching his shoulder and back as he leaned over her small frame.

Charles knew she was close as he continued manipulating her with mouth and hand. She'd started thrusting against his hand, as he teased and tweaked her below, and alternately pushing upward as his mouth worked over her breast and throat. He decided to do a little extra exploration, and keeping his fingers busy on her sensitive little button, he shifted so his mouth could continue down her torso to her abdomen, where he kissed her succulent little navel. He continued downward, her gasping and moaning driving him mad. He didn't go quite as far as his fingers, still working on her furiously, but began slowly working his way back up to her other breast, kissing and nipping on her the entire way.

"Charles, PLEASE!" she begged, when he suddenly thrust two fingers into her, angled forward, sending her over the edge as she screamed his name again.

Margaret lay back gasping, her mind and body reeling. My GOD what that man can do, she thought. She reached back and grasped the pillows to brace herself, as he moved between her legs, positioning his large frame over her, reaching down to kiss her tenderly as he slipped into her.

She lifted her legs, wrapping them around him, pushing him into her as he stretched up, putting his weight on his hands as his slower rhythm increased, faster and harder. He wasn't sure how far or fast he could go without hurting her, but she rocked with him, her hands still grasping the pillows, her head back, eyes closed, a look of rapture on her face.

He loved looking at her as he thrust so deeply, losing himself again with abandon as he'd done last night. She was so limber, so flexible, that she took him in completely, moving with him. She too enjoyed the rapturous expression on his face, relishing the feel of him poised over her. She released the pillows and wrapped her arms around his broad torso, digging into his back with her fingers, her mouth against his chest, legs gripping powerfully around his lower back.

His mouth moved to her neck, moaning against her, and she knew he was about to hit his own climax. He cried out her name as she gasped, pushing her with the final motions of his release. He carefully covered her, panting against her neck. He relaxed for a moment, resting on his arms and leaning on his hip and knee. He remained in her as he wrapped his long arms around her and lifted her powerfully on top of him, and they lay there, relaxed and replete from their lovemaking.

Neither spoke for a time, content to hold one another. Margaret loved to lie on top of him, with him still connected to her, and she gripped the sides of his strong thighs with her legs, not wanting to break the contact.

He lifted his head to kiss her face and mouth. Even after the lovemaking, he could not get enough of her. It was like he was making up for the many months they had between them, of unspoken glances and near-misses of accidental touches. He ran his hands up and down her sides, around her strong hips and thighs, feeling her wrapped around him.

"Margaret, my love, I simply cannot get enough of you!" he exclaimed as his arms enclosed her once more.

"And I can't get enough of you, Charles, and those amazing lips and fingers of yours!"

"Just my lips and fingers?" he asked teasingly.

"Oh, and so much MUCH more!" she smiled, wriggling her hips over him.

"Ah, yes, and keep that up, and there will be much much more shortly!" he grinned.

She wriggled again, squeezing her inner muscles against him, and he was right. It didn't take him long, and they started again, this time Margaret taking control of the situation.

Before they got into it yet again, Margaret smiled, "Charles, you continue to surprise me."

And he surprised her again, and again, until hunger for something else, like food, drove them out of her tent.

They emerged together at Noon, Charles going to the Swamp, Margaret heading for the shower. He was pleasantly surprised to find his roommates gone. He gathered what he would need for his own shower, put it on his bunk, and took his pen and pad off his cabinet.

He simply had to write to Honoria and tell her about this new understanding with Major Houlihan! He wasn't quite ready to tell his parents; he knew his sister would be discreet and not mention a new love in her brother's life.

June 1, 1953

My Dearest Honoria,

I had to write to you this glorious morning to tell you something extraordinary. I've recovered completely from the two gunshot wounds I endured days ago, that I'm told our Father Mulcahy called you, Mother and Father about. Thank you so much for the telegram you sent, wishing my speedy recovery. I am not sure if that is what did it, but I healed remarkably fast and well. I am sure your kind thoughts helped!

This may sound odd, but that incident has proven to be most fortuitous for me, because it helped seal a relationship with a woman here with whom I have worked for many months. I have mentioned her in my letters to you before, Major Margaret Houlihan.

I hope to tell you the whole sequence of events that have led up to today, some day, this must be a quick letter. Margaret is showering, and I am waiting to shower when she is finished. I am so full of joy that I had to write this down now, to share with you.

I am confident you'll keep this letter and what I am going to say close to your heart, and not mention it to Mother and Father, but I just spent an incredible night and morning with Margaret. As I was recovering in Post-op from my surgery, realizing that precious moments were not to be wasted, I declared my love to her, in front of Pierce, Hunnicutt and everyone else in the room. She has made it abundantly clear to me that my love is indeed reciprocated, so now she and I are enraptured of one another with this new understanding, here in this hellhole of Korea.

Honoria, I hope to have this woman with me for the rest of my life. Yes, I am going to ask her to marry me. Not too soon, the nature of wartime being what it is. She and I have agreed that for now, we shall take it as it happens, knowing that things can change from day to day. My incident that night is proof of that! I had not read the most recent letter from you, dear sister, foolishly thinking I had all the time in the world to do so.

Now I want to simply enjoy each day, each moment, that I have with Margaret, and some day, with you again in our beloved Boston.

I know this police action cannot last forever, and now more than ever I pray for a speedy and peaceful ending to it, so we may all get on with our lives.

I see Margaret coming from the shower, so I must finish this and get it to post.

All my love, darling Honoria, I will write to you again soonest with more about Margaret and me.

Your loving brother,

Charles

He was tucking the letter into an envelope when Margaret reached the Swamp.

"All done, Charles, there's even hot water!"

He smiled up at her, licking the envelope. "Yes, I'll shower in a moment. I need to get this to Klinger for the next post."

"Who're you writing?"

"My sister Honoria, telling her about our last several extraordinary days together," he said, standing up. He moved to Margaret, teasingly putting his hand into her robe, feeling her soft warm skin. He loved the fact that he could do so with impunity, in his own quarters, and not have to worry about being caught by someone.

She giggled and moved back, pulling her robe tighter to her. "Charles, what if Pierce or Hunnicutt come back!"

He looked around outside. "Nope, neither of them nearby."

She took a peek as well, then moved right against him, holding open her robe for him to see and nobody else. "See? Now, you can see more tonight, but in the meantime," she said, sealing the robe closed again, "you need to shower and go talk to Pierce. I THINK it's safe to say you're ready for surgery again!"

He pulled her roughly to him, nuzzling her neck and ear, and whispered, "After making love to and satisfying the glorious Margaret Houlihan FOUR TIMES in the last several hours, I would say yes, I have the stamina to endure hours of meatball surgery again."

He kissed her deeply and passionately, losing himself in her fiery kisses once more. The yells and laughter of the approaching BJ and Hawkeye told him it was time to stop, but he was reluctant to do so.

"Oh, sure, Margaret's tent wasn't good enough, you had to bring her here and tease us!" Hawkeye said as they burst through the door.

The two Majors parted reluctantly, almost absently. "Did you say something, Pierce?"

Charles and Margaret saw a look pass between BJ and Hawkeye. The two Captains were seeking their own entertainment this time, wondering how they could get the most out of what they were about to reveal.

"Yeah, I was saying this. I THINK it's safe to say you're ready to go back to surgery," he said, almost echoing precisely what Margaret had said moments ago.

BJ smiled as the cheeks on both Majors turned bright red.

"And how do you come to that conclusion?" Charles asked quietly, almost daring Pierce to say it.

"Hell, Charles, who DOESN'T know you're ready for surgery! After last night and this morning? My GOD, man, did you two sleep at all?"

Charles and Margaret looked at one another, silently, wondering how they would deal with this revelation that pretty much the whole camp heard and knew of their lovemaking.

Charles whispered closely in her ear, so that BJ and Hawkeye could not hear, "I do not care if the whole of Korea knows, my love. These two are merely jealous because they were not getting it like we were!"

She giggled, pulling away from him, the tension released. She would laugh it off, not make a big deal of it. They had declared their love for one another in front of everyone, after all, it was hardly a one-night stand of carnal lust.

Margaret, holding her robe to her, pranced to the door and turned, saying as she left, "You two are just jealous because you weren't getting it so well! Nyeh!" and she stuck her tongue out at them as she ran to her quarters.

Charles grinned as he watched his love run off. He took the letter for Honoria and picked up his showering gear. "Touche, gentlemen. Nice try!"

He left them there, speechless, wondering where their entertainment had gone.


	2. Two Day Pass

Chapter Two. Two-day Pass. 

Colonel Potter, once he'd grabbed a cup of coffee, settled down at his desk to review the daily papers and reports that Klinger presented to him.

He rifled through, first looking for the easy stuff: requests for leave. It was usually simple to quickly browse through them, approving or denying as needed. He knew intimately who needed R&R, and who did not.

One caught his eye: Major Winchester and Major Houlihan had requested leave over the July 4th holiday for Tokyo.

He frowned as he looked at the slip of paper, not instantly sure one way or the other as usual. Goodness knows the two deserved it. After Winchester had been shot, recuperated, and approved by Pierce to go back to surgery, the 4077th had been flooded with wounded, wave after wave coming through. He'd rejoined the surgical team just in time; if they'd had to deal with this influx with him still recovering, Winchester may have found himself replaced.

There was a lull, relatively speaking, and ICORPS predicted it would last a week or so in their sector. The front had been shifting back and forth, but fortunately further away than usual, not closer.

They were only requesting two days. Leave the morning of the 4th, return the evening of the 5th. He was certain they could handle two days without their thoracic surgeon and Head Nurse. He signed his name to the approval line and set it aside to work on the next request.

Later that day, Margaret ran to the Swamp, seeing Charles inside and hearing his music. She was waving a piece of paper as she burst in.

"Charles, he said YES! We can go to Tokyo!"

Charles jumped up and pulled her into his arms, swinging her around. Setting her down once more, he said, "That's MARVELOUS, Margaret! I was afraid we'd have to go en masse and plead with him!"

She looked again at the approved leave slip, grinning. She looked up at him.

"Oh, darling, this will be wonderful! We can go dining and dancing, maybe take in the symphony if you'd like!"

"One night in Tokyo, we must plan carefully! Maybe we can even go watch fireworks!" he said, pausing a moment...then the two burst out laughing.

"Yeah, like that'll happen, we're going to have too much to do and too little time to do it!"

Charles went to the door of his tent, holding it for Margaret as she preceded him. "I will go talk to Klinger about the travel arrangements, why don't you start putting together what you will want to bring? You never know when you'll have a quiet moment to do so, if we get wounded in before we depart."

"That's a good point, yes. I'll start going through my things. I won't need much, since it's only two days," she said.

"Nonsense, women always need an entourage when they travel!"

She blew him a kiss as they separated, "Not me, buster, I'm regular Army, I know how to pack out my old kit bag!" She turned around and started whistling the tune, as he smiled and headed to Klinger's office.

Margaret's smile disappeared the instant she entered the privacy of her quarters, to be replaced by worry and apprehension. She sat at her vanity, slowly brushing her hair and staring into her own blue eyes, wondering what she was going to do. Her face contorted in a most unflattering manner, but she couldn't help it. She watched her eyes as they filled with tears, running down her face.

What am I going to do, she thought. What's he going to say if I am?

She was a week and a half past when her menstrual period should have started. She knew her body well, and she knew her cycle. Regular like clockwork for the last several months. 27 days precisely. Her natural rhythm had changed as she'd aged, now in her late 30's, but had established itself in that routine. She had no tell-tale signs that it was approaching either: no bloating, grouchiness, headaches. The usual symptoms, none of which were presenting.

She'd give herself three more days. If by then she had not started her period, the night of the 3rd she would talk to Charles. It was fortunate that they were going to Tokyo: if she did need a pregnancy test, they could have it done discreetly in that huge city, without the 4077th or, more importantly, the Army any wiser.

Three days.


	3. July 3, 1953

Chapter Three. July 3, 1953. 

The three-day time limit she had given herself came and went, and still no sign of her monthly period. She sighed in resignation, knowing she'd have to get this out in the open tonight, in case they had to make arrangements immediately upon reaching Tokyo tomorrow for a pregnancy test.

Margaret got her dinner, and sat at the mess table with Charles and his fellow Swamprats, forcing a smile on her face.

"Look who's all smiles tonight, Hawk," BJ said, grinning at Margaret. "Margaret, you and Charles are going to miss our annual Fourth of July blowout, how could you do that? For TOKYO?"

Charles laughed, pre-empting a response from her. "The 4077th or Tokyo, which would I choose? Allow me to ponder that, Hunnicutt."

Margaret bumped her shoulder against his, and began to pick at her food. The sight and smell made her nauseous, which made her more nervous about her possible condition, and the nervousness fueled even more nausea. She pushed her tray away.

Charles asked, "Are you not hungry tonight, Margaret? Granted the usual fare here could turn any sane person's stomach. Perhaps I have some delicacies from home we could nibble on tonight?"

"I don't know, Charles, I've just not got an appetite."

He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead, checking for a fever, and felt her flushed cheek. "You're flushed, but not with fever. Are you feeling all right, Margaret?"

"A little nauseous, is all. The food smell is getting to me I guess."

"Gentlemen, if you'll excuse us."

He stood and helped her up, taking their food trays as she followed him out. "Let me check you over, Margaret, to see if there's a problem." He dumped the debris in the big trash can and threw the trays and cutlery on the stack. He took her arm and walked with her toward her tent.

"You're really not looking good, sweetheart," he said, concern in his voice. "Are you sure Tokyo will be a good idea?"

"Oh, yes, I am, Charles, I'll be fine for our trip!" She paused as they passed the Swamp. "You don't happen to have any peppermint schnapps in your coffers, do you?"

"As a matter of fact, I do, Margaret. I have some left over from the holidays last year. Mother always sends me a bottle for Christmas."

He ran in and grabbed it from the back of his food locker. He snatched his two little brandy snifters as well, and rejoined her in the compound.

"Peppermint always soothes my stomach. When I was little, my mother would give me a peppermint stick to suck on if my tummy ached."

"Yes, it has essential oils that have a soothing effect on the mucous linings of the gastro-intestinal tract."

"See? Mom knew."

They entered her quarters and turned on the lights. Charles set Margaret down on the edge of her bed while he poured them each two fingers' worth of the schnapps in the delicate little glasses. He handed one to her, and kept his own, swishing it around and warming it with his hand. She did the same, having learned the technique from observing Charles, and they both took a sip of the fiery yet cool liquid.

She sighed as the delicious liqueur burned down her throat, settling in her sour stomach. Sure enough, within a minute she was feeling immensely better. More relaxed, too, which was a good thing, as she had to talk to him tonight about what may be in their future.

He sat down next to her and put his arm over her shoulder, pulling her to him as he sweetly kissed her cheek. It was also a way he could again check her temperature, to see if she had a fever.

"Are you feeling better, my sweet?" he asked tenderly.

"Yes, I am, thank you, this was just right," she said. She closed her eyes, spine straight, preparing herself. The butterflies in her stomach were not detered by the fiery liqueur, unfortunately.

She turned to face him, taking his hand into her own.

"Charles, I have to talk to you about something."

He already suspected what it was, but didn't say so. "What is it, Margaret?"

She sighed once more, a deep and cleansing breath, and just blurted it out. "I think I'm pregnant."

He took a sip of his schnapps and swished it in his mouth for a moment and swallowed, nodding his head at her. "I was wondering that myself, Margaret."

It was certainly not what she'd expected! "What?"

He smiled at her, explaining. "Margaret, I AM a doctor, you know. We've been together since when, the very end of May? When we first made love? Have we not made love many times each week since then?"

"Well, yes, Charles, but..." she trailed off. She was not used to considering that a MAN would think about such delicate female tendencies, but he was right. Being a doctor, of course he would think these things, like "When did she have her period? Did I miss it?"

Of course he hadn't missed it.

"Margaret, I'm happy to say I've got to know your body intimately these past few weeks. I have noticed subtle changes in you, even if you have not. Tonight, your nausea confirmed it for me."

"So you've already considered this fact, that I might be pregnant? What have you decided, then, if I am?"

He carefully took her glass and set it down next to his own, and he turned to her. His face was lit up with joy. He's not the least bit upset! she realized.

"Margaret, if you are pregnant, I cannot think of any greater joy, except that you would give me the honor of being my wife."

She stood up, walking away from him. She wasn't ready for this. She had been prepared to discuss this, and he'd already thought about it and decided? Just like that?

"Charles, this is so soon, you and I haven't even really discussed a baby, let alone a marriage!"

He stood and went to her. "Margaret, I have been waiting for the precise moment to ask you to be my wife, and this is that moment!"

"You mean, you...you aren't asking me BECAUSE I might be pregnant?" she whispered, having learned how sound carries from her tent.

"No, darling, I have wanted you to be Mrs. Winchester since I first told you I love you. When I was semi-conscious and you were talking to me, and I realized how very precious you are to me, and how each moment of this life is precious, I'd vowed that I'd have you by my side for the rest of our lives. I've wanted to ask you these past weeks, but I was afraid you'd think I was being impulsive."

Her eyes filled with tears of joy, reflecting his own, as she looked up into his marvelously blue eyes. He, too, looked as if he was going to cry. He pulled her to him once more, tucking her head under his chin, breathing in the fragrance of her hair and perfume.

"Oh, Margaret, Margaret, I cannot tell you how very much I love you, how dear you are to me. If you are indeed pregnant, I do believe I shall burst asunder of joy unimaginable!"

They stood like that for a few moments, so overwhelmed that words were unnecessary. She finally pulled back so she could look him in the eyes once more.

"If this is something good, what if I am not pregnant? Is it something we aren't going to worry about then, if I do get pregnant? I'm not getting any younger. If I am, this may be my one and only chance to have a baby."

"One way or the other, I still wish you to be my bride, Margaret. If you are, then we will surely deal with it as two loving parents. If you are not, then we can do our best to make sure you are, and soon!"

She couldn't say anything. This conversation had gone in such a direction she'd never considered, that she was speechless.

He watched her expectantly, and finally asked, "So? Will you be my wife, Margaret?"

She smiled, unable to resist. "Yes, Charles, I will. I will!"

He took her in his arms, lifting her off the floor as he kissed her soundly. "I am without a doubt the happiest man in the world!"

Her nausea had disappeared, after the soothing schnapps and this most incredible and wonderful conversation. She should have known she was stressing out for no reason. She knew that Charles loved her unconditionally, and that together they would deal with anything that came their way.

"I love you so much, Dr. Winchester!" she whispered in his ear as he carried her to her bed, laying her gently down. With the night he had in mind for her, he was glad they were packed and ready to go in the morning.


	4. Tokyo

Chapter Four. Tokyo Day One. 

Charles and Margaret left at first light the next morning. Sgt. Klinger had volunteered to drive them to the airfield, a list in hand of requests from various personnel.

As they parked at the airfield, he turned to the two Majors.

"Okay, Majors, here's the list of who wants what."

"Typical, Klinger. We only have two short days to enjoy our leave, and everyone wants us to shop for them," Charles said, getting out of the back of the Jeep and helping Margaret out of the front seat.

Klinger tried to hand the list to him; Charles refused it, as did Margaret.

"We are not going there to shop for others, Klinger. They can get it all themselves next time they visit. Major Houlihan and I have a short time to get in as much civilization as possible."

Charles took their bags and bade Klinger goodbye, leaving the Company Clerk with his hand out, still holding the list, stunned by their abrupt departure.

Charles was convinced Margaret was, indeed, pregnant and fussed over her. "How do you feel, Margaret? Any morning sickness?"

She looked around at the other military personnel waiting to board the plane. "Shhhh, Charles! We can't say anything about it around here. You and I are fairly recognizable, it could get back to Potter, the 4077th and the ARMY!"

He had been so concerned for her, he hadn't thought of that. "Yes, of course, how foolish of me. I won't say anything else until we're off-base in Japan."

They stood in the line to board the plane. "What's our first stop once we're in Tokyo, Charles?"

"Afer we check into my favorite hotel, the American Embassy." He leaned forward to whisper, "I thought if we could put in a good word about my family connections in D.C., we could expedite the test and get in without an appointment or a referal. I could be the refering physician, after all."

She smiled at his deviousness. "Sounds perfect, darling!"

He continued in a low voice, "Once we do that and go to the hospital for the blood draw, we'll have the rest of our leave to enjoy ourselves. If they expedite the test, we'll know within the week. They can simply call it in and talk to either you or me."

She smiled her understanding but said nothing, still nervous about anyone overhearing the "p" word.

Their flight was blessedly uneventful, and they were soon landing in Tokyo. They quickly found a taxi and went to Charles' favorite five-star hotel. He opened the door, and Margaret gasped as she stepped into the opulent suite.

"Charles, this is amazing!" she said, her eyes wide as she looked around the living area.

He smiled at her wide-eyed gaze. "Margaret, as my future wife, you must be prepared to endure such luxuries, or had you forgotten?"

"Forgotten?"

He laughed out loud at her confusion. "Margaret, it's ME, Charles! The one from the wealthy New England family?"

She was startled as she realized what he meant. She'd been so caught up in their whirlwind romance and all the wounded they'd had in the last month that it had totally escaped her that she was with a man who, in the outside "normal" world, was quite wealthy.

She blushed prettily, smiling at him. "Charles, I guess it simply flew my mind, with all that's happened this last month. The wounded coming in wave after wave, then worrying about being pregnant."

He pulled her to him, kissing her soft mouth. "I guess nobody can accuse you of just marrying me for the money, seeing as I had to convince you that I'm sincere in wanting to marry you, baby or not."

She wrapped her arms around him, leaning into his chest. "It's YOU I want to marry, Charles Winchester, not your money. Even if you were a surgeon working at a hospital, and me a nurse there, a two-income family with a child, in the suburbs, that would be fine with me as long as we're together."

He believed her. "I know, darling, but I have other visions in mind for us. Some day, I hope to land the position of Chief of Thoracic Surgery at Boston Mercy. Perhaps you could work there, as a trauma or ER nurse, I don't know. We will see what develops."

"Hmmm mmmmm," she muttered against him.

He smiled as he pulled back, kissing her on the forehead one last time. "Let's get freshened up and we'll visit the Embassy, then the hospital, then we shall be free to enjoy the city until tomorrow night!"

Charles was good to his word, and within two hours, she was being led by an older woman to the laboratory for the blood draw. Charles knew many at the hospital for which he used to work, and went right in, as if he still belonged there, ordering the pregnancy test. No hassle, no questions asked, and he was assured that the results would ONLY be given to Dr. Winchester or Margaret Houlihan.

He waited in the sitting area for her return.

She smiled as she came out, and thanked the woman who'd done such a perfect draw.

He stood and kissed her, handing her uniform jacket and purse to her. "Ready, darling?"

"Yes, and I am starving! Let's get a bite while my stomach isn't too upset to eat something."

Yes, she's definitely pregnant, he thought joyfully. He merely needed that phone call in a week or so to confirm it.

He chose an expensive restaurant, one which he used to frequent. He'd been away so long that he feared the waitstaff would have forgotten him. He was pleased to discover he was wrong, as the host saw him and his lady come through the door.

The older man gasped in recognition. "Dr. Winchester! Welcome, welcome, where have you been, sir? We heard a rumor you'd been sent to Korea to a MASH unit!"

He led them to a table he knew Dr. Winchester prefered, helping the lady with her chair.

"Henri, it is good to see you once again," he said as he accepted the menu. "Yes, I fear that is not a rumor. My lady here, and I, work at the MASH 4077th near Oijongbu, in South Korea."

The host turned to Margaret, pouring her a glass of iced water, smiling at her.

"This is Major Margaret Houlihan, Head Nurse of our unit," he told Henri.

Henri bowed. "A pleasure, Major Houlihan." He turned back to Charles.

Charles asked Margaret, "Do you trust me?"

She laughed, "Of course I do, darling."

Charles proceeded to order a light lunch, something he knew would not be upsetting to Margaret's stomach, and forgoing wine, he chose a delicate tea grown in the mountains of Japan.

"No wine with lunch, Dr. Winchester?"

Charles smiled at Margaret, then turned to Henri. "No, Henri, only tea today for lunch. My lady friend's stomach has been upset, it should soothe her better than wine."

"Yes, yes, of course," he acknowledged and left to prepare their order.

After the tea and appetizers had been delivered, and she'd had a chance to nibble and sip and get something in her, she felt much better.

She looked expectantly at Charles, who was surveying the restaurant clientele. He recognized a few people, and nodded his head at their waves to him. He'd been discreetly listening to nearby conversations, relishing being in polite society once more. He of course could not say anything in response, but just listening was a pleasure he had forgotten during his time at MASH.

After a few moments, he leaned forward and whispered, "Have you been listening to anyone talking?"

"No, I've been nibbling and drinking tea, I told you I was starving!"

He looked around, to be sure nobody could hear him. "I've heard 'peace talks' and 'armistice' mentioned at least a few times already."

"What?" she said a bit too loudly.

He motioned her to be quiet. "Shhhh, shhhh, don't say anything. This may explain some snippets of conversation I heard at the Embassy earlier! I don't know if I am correct, but it sounds like there may be a truce soon!"

"We've heard such rumors many times before, Charles, this is nothing new."

"No, no, it is different. It's hard to describe, this has a sense of urgency to it. I think there's something really going around diplomatic circles about this. Let's keep our ears open, see if we can pick up anything else. It won't be official, of course, so we cannot say anything to Potter or the rest of the unit when we get back!"

The arrival of their food halted their conversation. They ate in companionable silence for a time, Margaret doing her best not to shovel the food into her hungry mouth.

Charles engaged her in polite conversation, pleased that unlike the mess tent at the 4077th, she did not talk with food in her mouth out in public. He'd rarely had the chance to see how Margaret interacted outside of the unit, and was also pleased to see she could conduct herself like a proper lady when she chose to. She's too used to us at the camp, he thought.

They finished their delicious chocolate and mint trifle, and Charles took care of their tab.

As they stepped out onto the busy city sidewalk, feeling almost overwhelmed by the crowds, he took her aside to a quiet spot against the building to talk to her.

"We have one more stop to make, Margaret, then it's up to you what we do for the rest of the day!"

"Where are we going, Charles?" she asked as he hailed a cab.

"A store I know on the Ginza."

A cab pulled up, and Charles helped Margaret in. He leaned in to whisper to the driver where they'd like to go, and climbed in back with Margaret.

Her curiosity was getting the better of her. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"No, I am not. Wait and see." He took her hand and kissed it, holding it to him.

After the expensive hotel and fine lunch, she couldn't imagine what he had in mind, but smiled and relaxed back into the wide seat. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten that aspect of Charles' life outside of the Army. She had been military so long that civilian lifestyles eluded her at times. Margaret had told him the truth though: she'd love him regardless, even if they were a simple married Doctor-Nurse team at a city hospital. All of this was added gravy, which she did not mind at all.

Charles handed the driver the fare, generous tip included, and helped Margaret out of the cab. She gasped when she saw where they were: Fine Jewelry.

"Oh, CHARLES!" she whispered, afraid to step forward.

"We must get you an engagement ring, Margaret," he said, leading her into the store. "You'll pick it out, and tonight I'll present it to you properly, as a gentleman should do."

She smiled up at him, his blue eyes sparkling as he enjoyed her reaction to this wonder.

"Did you think I was not going to get you a ring, darling?"

"Yes, but I thought perhaps once we get back to the States, and I've met your family. I wasn't sure how you do things in Boston society!"

"Tokyo is the Jewel of the Orient, where else to buy a jewel for my lady?" he said, kissing her hand again, as they approached the jeweler's counter.

He motioned for her to wait, while he went to talk to the proprietor. She saw them talking, the older man nodding his head and smiling soon after Charles began explaining what he wished to purchase. She couldn't help but smile too, thinking the man had just made the sale of the month, with the Winchester money coming through his doorway.

The proprietor approached her. "Madam, the gentleman asked that you join him in our sitting room, and I will present our ring settings and loose diamonds to you, for your perusal and selection."

"Certainly," she said, moving to accept Charles' outstretched hand and letting him lead the way. She hadn't imagined picking an engagement ring out was so complicated. She thought they'd merely look through the glass, point to a few to try on, and that was it.

She let Charles do the initial viewing of both the settings and the loose stones, knowing he would be more knowledgeable about such things than she. He narrowed it down to five settings, and ten stones. He presented the large velvet-covered tray to her to view his selection of diamonds.

She gasped when she saw what he'd chosen. "Oh, Charles, they're all so lovely! How will I ever decide?"

He took the jewelers' loupe and showed her how to use it, and what she wanted to look for in each diamond. They moved under the special bright lamp that simulated sunlight so she could see more closely.

She narrowed it down to a single diamond, that under the lamplight had an almost pink sheen to it, sparkling brilliantly as she moved it back and forth. Her eyes were wide with wonder as she stared at it, mesmerized.

"This diamond, Charles, if that's all right?"

"Yes, of course, sweetheart. They are all 'all right.'"

He took the tray with the single diamond separated from the others and handed it to the proprietor, who in turn gave him the tray with the settings.

She didn't take long at all on the setting. For a diamond with the delicate pink tone to it, she chose a setting that was old-fashioned, with delicate filigree around where the stone would be placed. The pinkish diamond and the platinum setting would do, she decided.

"This one, Charles," she said, with more conviction this time. She had to start getting used to this, and not ask his permission every time he offered her something. He obviously would not offer if he didn't want to, would he?

He smiled his approval, both of her selection and her confidence in her choice. She was less unsure of herself. She'll have lost that shyness by the time she meets Mother and Father, he thought. He never would have attributed shyness to Margaret Houlihan!

The proprietor checked her finger for ring-size, made a note, and informed the gentleman that the ring would be ready within the hour. He told them there was a small city park nearby, at a Buddhist temple, in which they could walk while they waited for the ring to be completed.

Charles thanked the man and led Margaret back out into the crowded city street. She'd never once seen money trade hands, but knew better than to ask. That just wasn't done in polite society, she thought, wanting to laugh at her own haughty behavior. Charles was starting to rub off on her.

They easily found the tiny secluded park, and rested on the bench, talking quietly.

"How do you feel, darling?" he asked, pulling her to him so he could drape his arm across her.

"A little tired, Charles."

Definitely pregnant, he thought. Fatigue and nausea? Plus other little signs he'd noticed, changes in her body he'd sensed over the last couple of weeks.

"Margaret, I am almost positive you are pregnant, if you will pardon the pun."

She sighed against him. "I know, Charles. I really believe I am too. I've been regular like clockwork, then nothing? The nausea and fatigue are classic symptoms, I know."

He smiled, thinking about what it was going to be like. A son, or a daughter, didn't matter. He had to keep himself from being too excited, until they had confirmation.

She leaned into him more, and within seconds was snoring softly against his chest. He looked at his watch. Thirty-five minutes to go.

Later, Charles shook the proprietor's hand as they completed the transaction, and guided Margaret to a bench on the busy city sidewalk.

"You wait here, my love, and I'll hail a cab to whisk us back to our hotel, so you may nap for a few hours."

He was soon carrying her over the threshhold of their suite, and set her in the overstuffed reclining chair that faced the immense cityscape.

"Would you like some chamomile tea, perhaps, Margaret? Warm milk?"

"Oh, no, no milk," she said, the thought of such making her queasy. "Chamomile and peppermint would be lovely."

"No sooner said than done, my love, I'll be back directly."

He was soon back, with her travel bag in hand. "Did you want to put your nightgown on, to nap in?"

She smiled. "No, that won't be necessary. I'll just take my uniform off, since it's only a nap." She didn't want him to see what she'd tucked into her bag, in anticipation of the evening in Tokyo.

After the tea had arrived and been drunk, Margaret went to their bedroom suite, sighing at the immense king-sized bed. She'd nap now, but she had some big plans in this bed tonight!

Charles sat on the edge of the bed to watch her take her uniform off. She smiled at him, knowing how he loved to see her au naturel. She carefully hung up the top and skirt, and slowly removed heels, slip and stockings, knowing he was relishing the show.

By the time she'd finished, she stood in front of him and kissed him soundly. He pulled her against him, running his hands up and down her bare backside, kissing her neck.

"Charles..." she said, sighing. "Charles, we can't make love right now, I'm about to fall asleep here and now from the chamomile. Tonight, after I've rested, we can enjoy one another throughout the entire night and sleep in in the morning, all right?"

He reluctantly released her, and stood up to tuck her under the voluminous blankets. "You're right, Margaret. You sleep all you need to, and I will be making arrangements for dinner and dancing tonight. I wanted to take the opportunity this afternoon to contact some people I know, as long as I am in the city."

She yawned, "All right, darling. I'll be here."

He switched off the light, gave her a sweet kiss on the forehead, drew the heavy thick drapes and left her there.

Margaret stirred a few hours later, feeling refreshed, and lay there, listening. The city sounds worked their way up to their suite, and she smiled. It was so different than the usual background noise at the 4077th. It was lovely to luxuriate in this huge bed, stretching and yawning, knowing she and Charles had a magical evening planned.

She listened for him, but heard nothing.

"Charles?"

Not a sound.

He must be out still, she thought.

She decided to start the process of getting ready. She could wear one of the huge fluffy robes she'd found in the big bathroom of their bedroom suite until it was time to dress for dinner and dancing.

She softly padded to the bathroom, her bare feet squishing into the deep carpet and then making pitter-patter noises on the beautiful tiled floor of the bathroom. She got her showering supplies ready and turned on the water, stepping into the hot steamy mist, losing herself in the sensation of an unlimited supply of hot water.

Margaret wasn't sure how long she'd stood there, letting the hot water roll off of her, soaking her hair. She was running her hands through her hair to wet it completely when a swishing sound startled her, a second before she felt a hand grab one breast.

"OH!" she squealed, laughing as Charles stepped in with her.

He smiled down at her, standing close, letting the water hit his chest. "May I join you, my lovely lady?"

"Certainly, sir, it looks as if you already have!"

He reached across her to get the shampoo, squeezing a little on his hand. He turned her around, facing away from him, and he began to wash her hair for her.

He got that task done quickly, and turned her back to face him, holding her head back to rinse. Once the shampoo was off her, he pulled her to him and kissed her deeply, running his hands from her derriere, up her back, then down again.

"Now, for the fun part, Margaret," he said, grinning wolfishly at her. He reached for the bar of soap and started a rich lather in his big hands. They'd stepped out of the direct spray of the shower, and she stood there as he slowly lathered her up, beginning with her neck and shoulders.

Oh, my, Charles thought. She is so incredibly beautiful! He couldn't believe his good fortune, winning the heart and soul of such a woman as Margaret Houlihan. For a woman in her late 30's, she was in amazingly perfect shape, having taken care of herself so well over the years, maintaining an active lifestyle as she did.

He was taking his time, relishing the look and feel of her as she stood there before him, open and vulnerable, trusting him completely. That alone stabbed deep into him, that she would open herself so to him, and he felt such a pang of love and desire for her that he wanted to simply take her right then and there. But he would restrain that desire, at least for now, and enjoy this rare moment.

He looked down at her chest as he ran his soapy hands down her shoulders then arms, wishing he could drown himself in her. He moved his hands forward, cupping her, lathering her up, pinching the rosy tips teasingly. She had her eyes closed, and giggled, smiling as she lost herself in the feel of his hands and fingers. He continued down, moving the lather to her lower back, reaching down and cupping her roundness, her hips, pulling her suggestively toward him.

The soap on her neck and shoulders had been rinsed off, and he nuzzled her neck as he roughly pulled her to him, squeezing her firm flesh, his desire almost overwhelming.

"Margaret, I want to take you, right here and now, my love," he murmured, kissing and nibbling her hot wet skin.

He'd moved her back under the spray, the soap washing off her in waves, and he ran his hands up and down her once more. She took the bar of soap from him, and said, "Now it's your turn!"

He was so much taller than she, that she had to stretch to lather his broad shoulders. She, too, was examining him as she soaped him up. He wasn't in the peak physical shape as some men she'd been with, especially her ex-husband, but he had many qualities she found attractive and exciting, combined with so many other aspects of him that she loved. He had marvelous shoulders, a powerful broad chest that she ran her hands over, lathering as she passed, and she loved his strong forearms and those amazingly dextrous hands and fingers. No wonder he's such a brilliant surgeon, with those hands! she thought.

She worked her way down from his chest to his abdomen, and further, and she smiled up at him as she lathered him on yet another aspect of him that she loved so dearly. He fell back against the wall of the shower, eyes closed, concentrating on her touch, the feel of the soap and her firm grip around him. She leaned forward as her hands worked their magic, kissing his now soap-free chest.

"Hmmmm, Charles," she said, "this makes me want you to take me right here and now!"

He took her for her word, and lifted her up, setting her on the wide shelf of the huge shower stall. He propped her there, in the corner, and grasped her roughly by the hips and thighs. The shelf was at the perfect height for them, like it was made for that purpose. Without preamble and giving no thought to propriety, he slammed into her, making her gasp as he thrust powerfully into her, enflaming her own desire as he took her with such force.

She screamed in ecstasy at that initial surge, wrapping her legs around him, reaching up to dig her fingers into his strong shoulders. Oh my GOD, she thought, losing herself as he pounded on her, wave after wave, trusting him to hold her up as he lost himself in her, again and again. She didn't know Charles had it in him! He couldn't know how she relished rough play sometimes, he was always so gently passionate with her. To take her like this, with such force, was an incredible turn-on for her, and it didn't take her long to reach the first of many mind-blowing orgasms.

"Ch-charles! OH MY GOD, Charles!" she screamed as another climax hit her minutes later. Her screams fueled his passion, and he pushed harder into her, one arm holding her steady while the other braced against the shower tiles. He was practically holding her on him now, his long finger reaching behind and under her, feeling her as he went in and out. He tweaked her with his finger as he continued the thrusting, making her peak yet again.

As he went at Margaret so violently, a small part of his mind thought, Are you really doing this? He ignored the thought, losing himself in her screams, her wetness, the feel of her so snug around him. He had never felt so free and unbridled, to make love to a woman such as this; he truly thought he'd been lost to sanity, giving himself up to such abandon. He opened his eyes, worried that he may actually be causing her pain, but the look of such ecstasy and rapture on her face, her eyes closed, her mouth parted, assured him she was enjoying this as well. Her screams as she'd hit orgasm after orgasm were proof as well. It seemed the more she screamed in response, the more he wanted to lose what little remained of rational thought in his ever-analytical mind.

He had been holding back his own climax, enjoying too much the entire sensation of their violent love-making, but could resist no longer when he saw her opened mouth, gasping for air, her tongue sweetly licking her drying lips.

He pushed her against the wall, thrusting once more, as the wave of light and the explosion hit him. He screamed out, as if in victory, as she matched him one more time, the orgasms hitting them simultaneously. He continued the thrusting motion until he couldn't do any more, then leaned against his supporting arm, bending down to finally kiss that beautiful mouth and smile he loved so much.

"Margaret," he gasped, "Margaret...that...that was incredible!"

She leaned back, still resting her legs around his hips and buttocks, almost sobbing with relief. She couldn't move, she couldn't talk, all she could do was gasp for air.

He kissed her once more, smiling down at her. "Are you all right, Margaret?"

She nodded an affirmative, and slowly, slowly, lowered her legs until her feet gingerly touched the shower floor. She wasn't sure if she could even walk! He held her to him as he pushed the big shower curtain aside, and led her to their bed.

They flopped down, dragging the light covering blanket onto them, and fell asleep, utterly exhausted.

They dozed for an hour or so. Charles awoke first, lying still and watching Margaret sleep. She had such a relaxed and angelic look on her face, he couldn't resist and kissed her softly, her lips still pouty from their passionate kissing earlier. His kiss caused her to stir, and she stretched and moaned, looking at him with those sparkling blue eyes he adored.

He took her into his arms, resting her head against his chest, stroking her now-dry curly hair. He kissed the top of her head.

"Margaret, my love, I am at a loss for words, that...that...I am speechless," he said, laughing. It was extremely rare, he knew, when he could not articulate his thoughts, but he was too stunned by their experience in the shower to put it in words.

She perched up on one arm, looking at him, running her fingers over his sweet mouth. "Now, this is a pivotal moment in history, Charles Emerson Winchester the third at a loss for words?"

"Yes, my love, and it was you who had that onerous task to perform! Rendering me speechless!"

She climbed on top of him, straddling him. He reached up to fondle her, then pulled her down to his waiting mouth.

"My God, Margaret, how do you do it? We just have the most mind-altering sex in the history of Humankind, and you're ready to go again?"

She wriggled against him. "Seems you're ready again too, Mister!"

He laughed, and wrapped his long arms around her. "Perhaps in a short while, my love, but we must tend to something first."

"And that is?"

He kissed her neck, nuzzling her ear. "If you do not mind, I would rather stay in tonight, and enjoy this beautiful big bed and the pleasure of your company. We can order a fine dinner and wine, and eat in, and I can give you your engagement ring here."

"That sounds wonderful, Charles," she muttered.

He sat up and fetched the two robes from the bathroom, throwing one on her. "I'll call the restaurant and cancel the reservation I'd made earlier."

She lay in their big bed, semi-dozing, while he took care of the dinner duties. He returned a while later and leaned down to kiss her. She opened her eyes, gazing up at him.

"Room service said it would be at least an hour. They're extremely busy tonight, so we've got some time." He carefully opened her robe, slipped off his own, and climbed back in bed. He pulled her back to her earlier position, straddling his hips and thighs, and said, "Now, where were we?"


	5. Hawkeye

ChapterFive. Hawkeye. 

When Charles and Margaret de-boarded the plane and walked to the parking area, they saw Sgt. Klinger in the same spot, as if he'd never left the previous morning.

Margaret laughed as they approached. "Klinger, it looks like you've been here since yesterday!"

Klinger took their bags and put them neatly in back, leaving the seat free for Major Winchester.

"No, Major, I've been back at the camp. But I've noticed something odd, both yesterday morning and waiting for you two tonight."

"And what would that be, Klinger?" Charles asked as he climbed in back. Not that he really cared what Klinger had noticed, he just hoped the man would get moving.

"A lot of people coming off the planes from Tokyo were buzzing about 'peace talks' and 'armistice.'"

He saw the two Majors look at one another significantly. "What? Did you guys hear something in Tokyo? What's going on?"

"Rumors only, Klinger, like we've heard a hundred times before," Margaret answered him as he pulled out.

"I don't know, this seemed different somehow," Klinger said, almost paraphrasing what Charles had said the previous day. "It's got a feel to it, like excitement or desperation, I'm not sure."

Charles quipped, "Klinger, you know how the rumor mill is fueled exponentially, one telling two telling four, et cetera. Wait, no you don't. Never mind."

"All I know is I think it's getting close."

"I would recommend you not mention this to anyone at the 4077th. We must get official confirmation from Colonel Potter and ICORPS before we discuss it, or we too will add to the fire of gossip and rumor."

"Yes, Major." He would any way, of course.

They drove in silence the rest of the way to camp. It was almost 23:00 hours when they pulled in. The compound was quiet, a light on in the Post-op ward.

"Did you get wounded in while we were gone, Klinger?" Charles asked as he and Klinger got their bags.

"Yes, sir, this morning. It was pretty tight, but the three surgeons pulled everyone through. Colonel Potter didn't think it worth calling you back from Tokyo ahead of schedule, but I think you're on first thing in the morning."

"Who is on duty now?"

"Captains Pierce and Hunnicutt. Kellye and Baker too."

The two Majors went to the Post-op ward. May as well break the news now.

Charles' bunkmates smiled as they entered.

"Look who's home! We missed you kids," Hawkeye said, approaching them. He saw their bags and grabbed Charles'. "Whadja bring me, Charles, huh? Huh?" He started rummaging through it. Charles just smiled as he watched Margaret.

She was holding out her left hand, almost in Pierce's face, but he was too focused on the travel bag. BJ whistled softly in surprise, not saying anything either. The three watched Pierce, wondering when he'd notice the small boulder on Margaret's finger.

Margaret could no longer stand it. "AHEM!"

"Huh?" Hawkeye asked, turning toward her to almost get a diamond ring in his eye. "Oh, MY!"

He grabbed her hand roughly but playfully, tucking her arm under his arm while he examined the ring. He stood up, dragging Margaret behind him as he held her hand under the lamp at the doctors' desk. She was laughing so hard she could hardly walk, so she let Pierce hold her up.

The pinkish diamond sparkled as he moved her hand back and forth. He finally looked up.

"Okay, what jewelry store did you heist while you were in Tokyo, Charles?"

"A fine proprietorship on the Ginza, Pierce, highly recommended by the American Ambassador to Japan when we visited the Embassy yesterday morning."

BJ and Hawkeye both whistled, impressed.

"Well, Margaret, looks like you've fallen into the old money Winchester family, congrats!"

She snatched her hand back, suddenly angry. "PIERCE! That was uncalled for!" She turned around and stomped out.

"What?"

Charles glared at him for ruining a moment Margaret had been looking forward to all day. "Pierce, after I gave that ring to Margaret last night over a lovely candlelight dinner, asking her to marry me, all she could talk about was telling everyone here at the 4077th how happy she was. Especially telling YOU, Hunnicutt and Colonel Potter! And as usual, you have to be GAUCHE and ruin what should be a very special time for a woman!"

He nodded at BJ in farewell. "Hunnicutt." Charles took their bags, turned on his heel and stormed out, following Margaret to her quarters.

The two doctors stood motionless, staring at the door Winchester and Houlihan had exited.

BJ had to say something. "Hawk, I'd suggest you go apologize right now, before this goes too far."

Hawkeye cleared his throat, running his fingers through his hair. "I think you're right, the sooner the better."

He left to go to Margaret's quarters. He was thinking furiously as he slowly approached, not sure how he'd mend his unfortunate tactlessness. I can be a real rube sometimes, he thought. He'd admit the error of his way, tell her she'll make a beautiful bride for Major Winchester, et cetera, et cetera.

He finally got to her door and reached up to knock, when he heard the two talking inside.

"Margaret, please, you must calm down. You know Pierce, he was doing as he always does. You're upset from the hormones raging in your body. Haven't your moods been more up and down these past couple of weeks, when the nausea and fatigue started?"

She sniffled against his fine handkerchief, and nodded. "Yes, they have. I suppose you're right, he was just being Pierce, after all. God forbid I expect something like CIVILITY from him!"

Hawkeye backed slowly away, out of sight of the tent's open netting on the window, overwhelmed with such disparate emotions he didn't know what to do. He couldn't go right back to Post-op because BJ, as sensitive as he was to Hawkeye's moods, would know instantly that something had upset his best friend.

Up and down moods? Hormones raging? Nausea? Fatigue? And CIVILITY! Oh my God, he thought, she's pregnant, and that's why Charles asked her to marry him! CIVILITY indeed, he thought, as Charles would say it. Charles was being civil in marrying the woman he'd made pregnant. Hawkeye would be civil in keeping this entirely to himself, not even hint at anything untoward to BJ and certainly not intimate what he knew to CHARLES!

He opted for Rosie's. He'd run into more MASH personnel at the Officer's Club, and he really had to be alone with his thoughts and a Scotch while he mulled this over.

Charles settled Margaret into her bed and tucked the light blanket around her. He kissed her on the cheek and told her, "I am going to go find Pierce and talk to him further about this, now that you and I have calmed down. Did you need anything, my darling? Some of the peppermint tea we brought back from Tokyo, perhaps?"

She shook her head, smiling at his tenderness and concern. "No, sweetheart, I am fine." She yawned to demonstrate her calmness and readiness to sleep.

"Very well. I'll check on you one more time tonight before I retire to the Swamp, then." He switched off the lamp and left in the direction of Post-op.

BJ heard the door open and, without looking up, said, "So what'd they say, Hawk? Did you make amends?"

"What are you talking about, Hunnicutt, isn't Pierce here?"

BJ looked up, startled to see his other roommate. "No, Charles, he left to go talk to you and Margaret! He was going to apologize to her."

"I did not see him between Margaret's quarters and here. When did he leave?"

"Practically on your heels. I told him he should apologize right away, and he actually took my advice."

Oh no, Charles thought, stunned. Practically on my heels? And we'd been talking about her pregnancy! He HEARD!

"Charles, are you okay? What's wrong?"

Charles started out of his shock. "Nothing, nothing. Perhaps he's in the Swamp. Was he to return here? Is he still on duty?"

BJ looked around at the quiet ward. "Well, it is pretty quiet, maybe he did go to the Swamp, but it's unlike him to up and leave. If he'd wanted to leave me here on duty, he would've at least stopped by to let me know, don't you think?"

"Yes, of course he would. I will go check the Swamp."

He poked his head in the door to their quarters. No Pierce. He went to the Officer's Club. Not here, either. Rosie's was all that was left.

Charles walked into the small establishment, the bar noisy and rowdy as usual. He went to the back room where he suspected Pierce may be secluded, thinking about what he'd probably heard through the thin walls of Margaret's quarters.

Pierce didn't notice Charles' approach.

"Pierce, may I join you?"

Hawkeye looked up, startled. "How'd you find me here, Charles? I wanted to be alone."

"You left while still on duty in Post-op, without telling Hunnicutt. We were concerned."

Hawkeye took a gulp of his Scotch. "I had things to think about, Charles."

Charles watched his roommate. He knows, he heard, and he's determined not to let on.

"Does this have anything to do with our engagement, Pierce?"

"No," Hawkeye lied.

He so loathes lying that he's very bad at it, Charles thought, smiling inside. He'd never felt such warmth and affection for his crass roommate than at this moment. Hawkeye was determined not to interfere or say anything one way or the other. What was it Margaret said? That Hawkeye didn't know civility? He was demonstrating quite well to Charles that he did know such a thing.

Charles took Hawkeye's glass and gulped the remaining Scotch, grimacing at the unusual taste. He motioned toward the exit.

"Come, Pierce, let's take a walk, and I'll buy you a Scotch when we get back."

Hawkeye sighed and arose, following his taller roommate out into the dark of night. They walked further away from camp, down the dirt road leading from the 4077th and Rosie's, and stopped at a favorite stump near the road.

Neither man said anything for a moment. Charles finally spoke.

"Pierce, my estimation of you has changed dramatically this evening."

It was so off-base from what Hawkeye was expecting that he said, "What?"

Charles chuckled. "Pierce, I left Margaret's quarters to find you, to confront you once again about what you'd said to her earlier. I went to Post-op, and Hunnicutt told me you'd come to apologize to Margaret."

He paused a moment, and put his hand on Hawkeye's back.

"Hawkeye," Charles called him, uncharacteristically, "Hawkeye, I think I know why you had to go to Rosie's. You inadvertantly heard Margaret and me talking, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And you put two and two together, and posited that I asked Margaret to marry me because she is pregnant."

"Yes."

"I supposed you heard her railing about you and your lack of civility as well?"

"Yes."

"Hawkeye, tonight you have proven to be a most civil person. You actually LIED to me, to not let on that you know anything. You were so determined to keep the conversation you'd heard quiet, even from Hunnicutt, that you did one of the things you most hate to do, as a sacrifice. That, to me, is very civil."

Hawkeye finally looked at Charles. "So that's it? You're marrying Margaret because she's pregnant? Doing the CIVIL thing, not because you love her?"

Charles laughed. "Is that one thing bothering you tonight, Pierce?"

"I'd say the main thing, yes. Margaret's my friend, and I'd hate to see her get into what might turn out to be a loveless marriage, all for an unwanted child."

"Pierce, I am going to do something I very rarely do: I am going to tell you everything I'm feeling about something. You know I'm not normally one to wear my heart on my sleeve, but that day in Post-op when I told Margaret that I love her wasn't a fluke. I've loved her for quite some time, it's just that it took so long for us both to consciously admit it to ourselves, and each other. When I got shot, and I was lying there, semi-conscious, listening to Margaret, knowing she was holding my hand, I knew how precious she was to me, and how much I loved her. I also knew I wanted her to be my wife. This was long before any suspected pregnancy!"

"Suspected? You don't know, then?"

"No, but she and I are fairly sure that she's pregnant. I'd noticed some symptoms even before she'd talked to me the night of the third. We had a blood test started the morning of the fourth, and should know within the week."

"And if she IS pregnant?"

"I told her that the joy would so overwhelm me, her being my bride, carrying my child, that I should die from it all. We are very hopeful that she IS pregnant, actually, and if she is not, we plan on remedying that forthwith!"

Hawkeye smiled, standing. He clapped Charles on the back. "Thank you, Charles, for clearing all this up. And I'll keep my mouth shut any way because as you know, if she IS pregnant, she'll have to leave the Army!"

The two men began to stroll back to Rosie's for the promised Scotch. Charles paused a moment, frowning. "That's another issue. Rumors are abounding about peace talks and armistice. Both in Tokyo and at the airfield, to hear Klinger mention it. And if HE has heard these rumors, it can't be long until this whole sector has heard them, with him on the radio!"

Hawkeye had to admit he'd heard said rumors as well, but didn't give them any more credence than the previous rumors that had shot around.

"I mention it, because if there is an armistice soon, we were not going to mention her pregnancy to anyone, and be home well before she's showing. And if there is NOT an armistice by August 1st, we are going to announce the pregnancy to Colonel Potter and the world, and she'll accept her medical discharge. If that happens, she and I plan on having Father Mulcahy marry us before she returns to the States."

"Good, it sounds like you two have it all worked out. I'm glad we talked, Charles, and I'm glad this child, if there is one, is such a joy to you both, not a burden to bear."

Charles chuckled, a softness to his voice Hawkeye rarely heard. "Yes, Pierce, this child will be most loved and wanted! I am excited about the prospect of being a father, and cannot wait to tell my sister Honoria she's going to be an auntie finally!"

The two men entered Rosie's once more, and Charles ordered the two Scotches. They returned to the quiet table Hawkeye had found earlier.

Hawkeye raised his glass to Charles. "To the future Dr. and Mrs. Winchester!"

"Hear, hear!" Charles cried, and the two men gulped their drinks.

Charles was about to holler to Rosie to fetch another round, when he realized BJ had not heard from either of his roommates.

"PIERCE! Hunnicutt will be wondering where we ARE!"

The two men shot out the door for Post-op, laughing as they raced and trying not to be too loud at the wee hour of the morning.

They stopped just short of the door, gasping and laughing quietly, holding one another up. BJ heard the ruckus and poked his head out to see Charles and Hawkeye laughing and cutting up.

"I take it you two kissed and made up?"

Hawkeye almost fell down, the Scotch and the running hitting his brain. "Boy, I guess we did! He called me 'HAWKEYE!'"


	6. The Results Are In

Chapter Six. The Results Are In. 

July 11, 1953. Sixteen Days Until Armistice.

Klinger absently reached for the ringing phone, reluctant to turn his eyes from the magazine he'd borrowed from Hawkeye.

"4077th, Klinger," he said. "Tokyo General? Yes? Dr. Winchester or Major Houlihan? Let me see if I can find them, hang on a sec."

He ran to the door that faced the compound and looked around. He saw Hawkeye.

"Captain Pierce!"

Hawkeye stopped and turned toward Klinger. "Yeah?"

"Do you know where Majors Winchester or Houlihan are? Tokyo General's on the phone, they said they need to talk to either one."

"Hang on, Klinger, I'll get them! Don't let them go anywhere and do NOT let them talk to anyone!"

He ran to the Swamp, where Charles and Margaret were playing cards.

He whispered through the netting, "Tokyo General!"

The two threw their cards down and ran after Hawkeye.

They burst into Klinger's office, and Charles checked to see if Potter was in.

"Where's Colonel Potter?"

"He's bringing Sophie for her morning run down by the river."

"Excellent. You're dismissed, Sergeant."

"What?" Klinger exclaimed. Being dismissed from his OWN OFFICE?

"KLINGER!" Margaret screeched. He knew that tone of voice, and made tracks.

Margaret looked at Charles. He kissed her cheek and handed her the receiver.

"Yes, this is Major Margaret Houlihan... Yes..." She smiled, turning to Charles, giving him a thumbs up. "Thank you so much for calling!"

She turned to Charles and before she could respond he plucked her into his arms, kissing her deeply. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and the two were lost in their own world of joy for a moment before they remembered Hawkeye was standing there.

Charles put Margaret down, and solemnly stuck his hand out to Hawkeye. His roommate wasn't going to stand for that, and drew Charles and Margaret into a group hug, arms wrapped around one another.

Hawkeye pulled back, grinning at the joy and love on the Majors' faces. "You weren't kidding when you said this would be a most happy event, were you?"

"No, Pierce. And I wanted to say, thank you for your discretion. It's been a relief to Margaret and me to have someone to share this with. Hunnicutt too. If these rumors continue to abound into something truthful, and we do indeed go home, nobody will be the wiser. Margaret will be able to retire her commission with an honorable discharge, not a medical discharge. AND we'll be able to marry in Boston, with friends and family in attendance. I hope you'll join us from Maine, Pierce!"

The three laughed as they left to find BJ. Like there was going to be an Armistice!

Klinger, when he'd been expelled from his office, heard the crowd gathered in the mess tent. Curious, he went to see what the ruckus was.

"What's going on?" he asked the room in general, smiling at the happy faces around him.

Nurse Kellye heard him, and turned around. "We're planning a big trip to the beach at Inchon, long as this great weather holds!"

Fin.

(Author's Notes: My next story is going to be epic. It will be my interpretation of what happened to everyone post-4077th. I'm currently calling it ATC: GFA. ("After the Credits: Goodbye, Farewell, Amen.") I'm assuming the true MASH fan has seen this two-hour series finale. Stay tuned.)


End file.
